Chapter Text
"Love is a dangerous thing, not because of the weakness it causes in people or because of how it can be turned into threats, but because you never know how far someone is willing to go for the person they love.
Xaden killed everyone who had Violet trapped in that interrogation room without a second’s hesitation. Gods forgive him, but he’d do it again."
Recovered letter from Lieutenant Colonel Brennan Aisereigh to Felix Gerault.
-*-
The month dragged on, and Liam wasn’t a stranger to that kind of month — the kind that carried so much bad news that every day seemed like the same endless blur of things testing his abilities. And the reason for all of it was none other than Varrish and the new impositions from the quadrant.
To begin with the daggers and the shipments, it became painfully clear that obtaining them wouldn’t be as easy as it had been so far. There were more guards, more protections, and more eyes watching for missing blades.
If before they could take two or three daggers each time they stole, now they were lucky if they managed to get even one, because every single weapon was meticulously counted the next day, and every time one went missing, the forge would be locked for days before reopening.
They had to adapt. Bodhi was being assigned to all of them thanks to his signet, since the protections needed to be disarmed. Imogen was usually the backup in case they got caught, to erase the captors’ memories. Sometimes, when Imogen couldn’t go, Garrick went instead — and more rarely, Xaden. When Bodhi couldn’t, they simply didn’t carry out the heists.
That was when Liam thought about how useful it would be to have someone with a signet like Nadine’s from his previous life — undoing protections. But no one on their side had it, and Liam didn’t trust that purple-haired woman one bit after how much she had despised him in his memories.
They were also limited in how much they could do without putting everything in danger with the RSC, because both Bodhi and Imogen were in their second year, and Varrish was clearly excited to begin his schemes with that stupid class of his.
He caught them for the first time the day after their enrollment. Liam was nearby when Garrick appeared, barely managing to carry both of them over his shoulders, and Liam was the only one to support Bodhi all the way up the stairs to the third floor.
They looked honestly terrible, horrible bruises covering every visible part of their bodies and more hidden beneath their clothes. Bodhi had at least three broken ribs and a fractured foot; Imogen was even worse, with half her ribs shattered, an arm twisted at a strange angle, and a dislocated hip.
Liam spent the entire night helping the older ones heal their injuries as best as possible because Varrish had been very clear that no one was allowed to go to the healers.
Since then, there had been only one more exercise from that class, and from what Liam discovered, it had been focused on land navigation, so it was less brutal.
The second bit of news was that now, after two months since the threshing and five since the start of the school year, some cadets were beginning to develop signets. Liam wasn’t close to that — except for those bands of light he had never been able to access or even see again since Elywi — although both Deigh and Feal were channeling an impressive amount of magic.
Both dragons were vague about it, saying his signet would appear for the right reason and that Liam shouldn’t rush the natural pace of things. In his previous life, it had taken around two months for Liam to develop distant sight, and that time had already passed for him.
Violet, Dylan, and Ridoc were in the same boat as him, but Rhiannon had put on a show in front of the entire quadrant after summoning all her weapons — the ones that had been confiscated during the morning inspection — when a guard said something that Liam didn’t hear but clearly irritated her. Since then, she’d been training to summon objects from greater and greater distances, both her own and others’.
Sawyer, on the other hand, didn’t have such a straightforward or explosive signet awakening as Mathias. It started with some forks slightly bending after he picked them up for the first time, then he began twisting a few locks after closing them, and then his blades appeared suddenly deformed after sharpening them. Finally, Sawyer’s sword contorted violently during a spar when Ridoc irritated him about something, nearly hitting Gamlyn, who had barely dodged the strike.
Both were unusual signets — Liam couldn’t remember anyone having a metallurgy signet for at least a hundred years, and object indicators weren’t common enough to be considered typical.
They were the only ones, however. Ridoc seemed increasingly excited, convinced that his logic was right — that his signet was taking longer because it would be so powerful it needed a few extra days to fully form. Dylan, on the other hand, seemed more restless and worried and admitted to Liam at some point that month that he wasn’t sure if bonding later, instead of during Threshing, might affect him in that sense.
Liam could only tease him, saying that the way his bond had formed — and the day it happened — didn’t make it any less valid or less capable of producing a signet. Then he pointed out, amused, that most of the squad didn’t have signets yet, just like Dylan. He reassured him, repeating what his dragons had told him: that his signet would appear for the right reasons.
Then he added that Dylan had been the second in their squad to channel, even though he’d bonded last — just a few days after Liam.
Violet wasn’t even channeling yet. Despite all the leg training she’d done so far, she still hadn’t managed to complete a full training session without falling off Tairn, and Liam had to begrudgingly admit that the saddle would be necessary this time too.
But that was a topic Deigh told him not to get involved in — that Liam needed to focus on himself. Being a bit more pragmatic, the dragon also said it was already being handled.
Liam finally decided that maybe Xaden was the one designing that saddle model, just like he had in his past life, and that thought alone was enough to keep Liam far away from that whole effort.
The only thing Liam truly considered positive that month was the fact that he was officially a teaching assistant. Kaori declared him ready after he managed to complete the dynamic dismount, though with a bit of turbulence.
The training had ended with a sprained foot and half his muscles sore from a bad fall, but it was a success nonetheless, and Kaori said he had done it better than many second-years. So Liam was cleared.
The first flight training Liam attended as Kaori’s assistant was a memory that was both funny and satisfying, because it was definitely nice to face the riders while wearing that badge on his chest.
It was undeniably gratifying to be the one giving instructions to the upperclassmen — and Liam meant all the marked ones and Dain — and he got different reactions from them.
Imogen rolled her eyes at him with a hissed curse that Liam was sure sounded less irritated than she meant it to be. Bodhi, who stood beside her, just laughed and shook his head, though he did look at Liam with some intensity. Liam didn’t quite catch what Imogen muttered to Durran.
Behind them, their two dragons made what Liam could only describe as the sound of laughter. Bodhi looked embarrassed, but Liam decided to let it slide, though a bit suspiciously.
The other marked ones just scoffed at him, and Dain Aetos sent him a skeptical look and a tired nod. Liam returned the nod, keeping his eyes on the boy’s posture for a few seconds longer than necessary.
The month that had passed at the academy hadn’t been any kinder to him than to the marked ones, not when he seemed to be just as much a target for Varrish as they were, and when the entire college still stared at him for his father’s death — which, as far as everyone knew, hadn’t been solved yet.
No one had been caught with any smuggled dagger. No one had been executed. The stupid security measures were still in place.
Liam was doing his best to try to soften up toward the boy, considering he was the easiest contact between Dain and the cause. That meant Liam had to be friendly enough with him.
Sometimes it was still hard to separate the now from the past, but Liam was almost proud that at least he wasn’t as curt or cold with Aetos anymore. It was a small step forward, but progress nonetheless — and a slow one at that — so Liam counted his blessings.
The first day was reserved for him to observe and get into rhythm, also for him to be officially introduced to the riders. Liam had been instructed to keep some distance from the main line and keep his eyes on the formation to check the riders’ postures while they moved between their seats and their dragons’ shoulders.
Kaori had told him that Liam was authorized to correct the cadets if necessary, but that he should prioritize simply calling their attention before explaining the maneuvers to them.
Mostly because, after several days practicing the same maneuver, they were expected to remember the theory.
It turned out that Liam had to step in three times. The first was with a boy from the third wing who rode a bad-tempered orange dragon that only didn’t try to burn him because Deigh growled at it while landing close enough to let Liam tell the boy what he was doing wrong.
Then came a small girl from the fourth wing, claw section, who was unhooking herself from her seat too early, slipping, starting to panic, and grabbing onto her harness again as the huge green morningstartail grew impatient.
Liam didn’t have time to warn her that she had to wait a few more seconds before releasing herself to move to the shoulder, or else the dragon’s wing movement would throw her sideways uncontrollably — and possibly send her flying off her dragon’s body.
Because that’s exactly what happened. Deigh dove almost vertically the moment the small figure left the dragon’s back. He caught her just a few meters before hitting the canyon floor, and Liam spent at least ten minutes explaining the maneuver word for word before finally setting her back on her dragon.
Deigh was muttering about poor choices and something about greens being the ones who should choose more wisely when they finally left Alicia behind and pulled back to follow the group, just a few meters above where Glane, Cuir, Cruth, and surprisingly Cath were flying in line at a slower pace than some of the dragons ahead.
Liam watched them for a while, his eyes following the figures as they leaned forward, passed their knees, then moved to their dragons’ scaled shoulders before making their way back to their seats.
Then Quinn suddenly slipped, grabbing onto one of Cruth’s scales to hang there since her feet couldn’t find enough friction to stabilize her position.
Liam barely registered the movement before leaping from Deigh to Quinn’s green dragon and grabbing her wrist, keeping his balance and his weight back to hold her safely on the dragon’s body.
If he had four pairs of surprised eyes staring at him as he pulled Quinn back to safety, Liam didn’t care, stepping aside to let Hollis regain her balance on her own.
But Imogen, Bodhi, and Dain were still staring at him as he stood on Cruth’s scales, calmly explaining what had happened and how it could have been avoided, before jumping back onto Deigh, who was gliding nearby.
When Liam’s first training session as an assistant ended, he realized that he actually liked doing it.
But his position as an assistant also became a challenge when some cadet reported to the new colonel that a first-year student was helping a professor teach second-year classes.
Liam didn’t yet have permission to assist with the third-year lessons because he hadn’t reached their maneuvers yet, but Kaori was confident that by next month that wouldn’t be a problem, since Liam was advancing astonishingly fast in his practices.
Varrish was as pleased about that as one could expect him to be, which meant not at all — and he decided to show up just as one of the sessions was about to begin, his cold eyes staring silently at Liam in frustrated contempt before focusing on Kaori, who seemed annoyed to be interrupted.
Liam hadn’t figured out exactly what had confused Varrish the first time they locked eyes during his nomination, but that confusion had since turned into controlled frustration and irritation — and Liam didn’t like that one bit.
Deigh didn’t like it either, but as the dragon had said so far, Varrish didn’t seem to think it was worth going after Liam for some reason. Liam still clearly remembered how Varrish had questioned Kaori about allowing a first-year student who had been bonded for less than three months to be teaching older riders.
The colonel said he was concerned that some maneuver might be taught incorrectly or that certain “preferences” might be allowed in his classes by having an assistant like Liam. It was as clear as daylight to Liam that the man simply didn’t want a marked one as an instructor — the kind of power that could grant them wasn’t small at all.
Liam was still just getting started. From what he had learned about his responsibilities and rights, he would soon have access to several sessions the cadets could never dream of attending.
But Professor Kaori was curt and concise in his response to the man. He criticized the colonel for suggesting that he hadn’t conducted rigorous tests and training to ensure the classes wouldn’t be compromised by someone incompetent — and for implying that Kaori himself was incapable of correcting any mistaken information that might be passed along to the other cadets.
And if the colonel felt the need, Kaori added, Liam could replicate any of the second-year maneuvers with satisfactory results. Naturally, Varrish dropped the subject, preferring not to test his luck by standing near Deigh while doubting his rider.
Then Kaori ended his speech by prodding Varrish about how he was questioning the decision of two generals and the king’s council in allowing Liam to take the position.
Obviously, faced with both statements, Varrish had no choice but to yield and accept that he couldn’t do anything to remove Liam from his position.
After that, things were pleasant enough. Liam was the only one to demonstrate the complete dynamic dismount when Kaori finally decided the group was ready to attempt the full maneuver.
The number of students who broke their ankles during that first lesson was honestly shocking, though apparently expected, since Kaori only seemed resigned about it.
Soon enough, Liam found himself being sought out by cadets in increasingly large groups looking for tips and explanations about the maneuvers — riders Liam naturally hadn’t even known existed before they started showing up behind him.
Some wanted advice on how to get the maneuvers right; some just wanted to hear the theory again because Kaori was firm in his belief that it didn’t need to be repeated once they’d heard it once. Liam suspected that a few wanted something other than flight tips.
Ridoc actually laughed when an unfamiliar girl stopped him in the hallway to ask — in the most seductive tone she probably had in her arsenal — if Liam could be her private riding instructor.
Naturally, Liam ignored her. Naturally, he threatened to cut parts off Ridoc if he dared tell anyone or even mention it again. And of course, by the end of the day, everyone who knew Liam had already heard about it.
So naturally, Liam was justified when he “accidentally” spilled his orange juice all over Ridoc’s clothes during dinner.
Especially since Garrick didn’t waste a single second teasing him about it later that night when they gathered to discuss Tecarus’s new proposal for the alliance — predictably, the terms were impossible, and of course Tecarus didn’t come anywhere near agreeing to transfer the luminary anywhere but Cordyn or Athebyne.
In the end, the meeting was just frustrating, because they achieved nothing, and Garrick still insisted on calling him “Professor Mairi” every time he addressed him.
That is, until Liam lost his patience and buried his dagger just a few centimeters from Garrick’s ear, making the third-year jump and flinch away from the threatening blade.
He wasn’t the only one laughing at Garrick’s startled expression afterward.
When the month ended, all the second-years had already gotten used to seeing him in the position of teaching assistant — though some didn’t like it one bit.
Liam didn’t care. That place was his because he had earned it, and there wasn’t a single damn thing in that world that could take it away from him.
That brought them to the present day. Liam hoped that the end of December and the beginning of January would bring them better things than the rest of the year had.
Snow was finally arriving — the event had been delayed that year for unknown reasons — which meant more training, colder and colder temperatures during flights, but no isolation periods caused by the snow that dragons hated.
Part of him was relieved — the part that kept reminding him there was still much to improve and that if the Venin existed within the wards, then Liam needed to start preparing his friends to fight them.
None of them knew the truth. Liam had told Dain Aetos first, not the group that had been with him since the beginning of the year.
But Xaden had been very firm in saying that he couldn’t tell anyone else, and Liam knew he needed to take a break from disobeying his brother’s orders — or he’d start having a real problem with him.
Once his defiance cooled a bit, then Liam would tell the rest of the group. There was no chance they wouldn’t fight on their side.
Liam landed smoothly with a sigh of relief. This was supposed to be his last official training session before taking the position of third-year assistant instructor. He and Deigh had spent the last two hours practicing the tail whip — though it was something Liam had already done in his past life.
At Resson, to kill that Venin on the back of his idiotic wyvern, Deigh had flung Liam through a whipping motion of his tail onto the enemy’s back — and caught him again afterward.
The technique had been wrong at the time, but as Liam imagined, during an actual fight, technique mattered less than the effectiveness of the strike that followed.
But now that Liam had Kaori’s instruction, the movement he already knew finally aligned with proper technique.
Kaori was satisfied. The professor had roughly told him what to expect from the third-year training and why it was so important for offensive and defensive maneuvers to become second nature to him.
Once the snow stopped falling at the end of winter and flight training could resume properly, the third years would enter what Kaori called the Fly Games.
It was, unsurprisingly, a less deadly version of the end-of-year War Games that involved the entire quadrant, where all third-year students would be divided into random groups and given objectives ranging from capturing a specific rider from the opposing team to seeing who could capture Professor Kaori first — if they managed to.
Normally, as Kaori pointed out, all the groups would race after the same target, since there was only one instructor to focus on, but the professor seemed genuinely excited about the possibilities that had opened up for those challenges.
Apparently, Liam was allowed to create his own challenges to be carried out during the Fly Games, and therefore he would also have to form the squads and groups according to them.
The only thing Kaori required of him when telling him this was that the squads not remain the same for all challenges — and that he shouldn’t stick to the wing and squad designations from the beginning of the year.
The professor’s logic was clear — and very sound: after graduation, riders would have to fight alongside whoever was available when needed — people they liked, disliked, had never met, or saw every day.
They had to get used to it here, because there was no room for lieutenants with big egos and little ability to adapt to the sudden shifts of battle.
Other than that, Liam was free to let his imagination run wild and propose any insane, outrageous challenge his mind could come up with.
Liam liked that idea — enough to make Deigh laugh in his mind and then add that he almost felt sorry for the students who’d have to face Liam’s ideas.
That would only happen after winter ended, which meant there was plenty of time to think about it.
He blinked, frowning when he found Bodhi waiting a few steps away, his gaze lowered, obviously not wanting to irritate Deigh, who stood right behind him.
Liam couldn’t begin to imagine what Durran wanted with him now — none of the marked ones had reported anything new, and in truth, Liam was confident he’d be left out for a while as Xaden got over what he’d done.
There was nothing else Liam could think of that would bring Bodhi to him. So he shrugged — it didn’t matter; what mattered was that the older boy was there.
“Try not to be late for your classes. It would be embarrassing to admit that my rider missed his lessons just to go courting,” Deigh teased as he spread his massive wings and took off, flying back toward the valley.
“Oh, shut up, you big stupid lizard. I’m not going to court Bodhi — he’s, I don’t know, my brother’s cousin or something. That’s disgusting,” he snapped back at Deigh, who only laughed louder. The excuse was good enough, but Liam knew his tone held far too little conviction to sound believable.
It didn’t matter because it was true. Liam wasn’t going to court Bodhi.
No. Definitely not.
Deigh was going insane — or rather, he always had been, and now he was just getting worse.
Shaking his head, Liam waved amiably at Bodhi as he approached, trying not to show how confused he really was.
“Any reason you’re standing here?” he asked with a raised eyebrow. Bodhi huffed, shaking his head, then gestured toward the path that led to the lecture tower.
Apparently, Deigh wasn’t the only one worried after all.
“No being late to class, huh?” Liam sighed, pretending to sound disappointed to ease his own tension that came from curiosity — and to start a conversation.
It worked perfectly when Bodhi laughed at that.
“It’s not good for your image to arrive late to class, Professor Mairi,” Bodhi teased with an amused smile. Liam huffed, though he was considerably more receptive to that joke than he ever was when it came from Garrick.
Give Tavis an inch and he’ll take a mile at your expense. Bodhi was more honorable, though no less capable of being persistent when he wanted to be.
“I should give you a punishment for your insolent tone, Executive Officer Durran, but I’ll let it slide this time only because you have a cute face,” Liam shot back with a crooked smile.
Bodhi rolled his eyes, looking mockingly tired.
“I thought you weren’t going to court him, and yet here you are,” Feal said with amusement, and Liam almost rolled his eyes if that wouldn’t have looked strange.
“It’s friendly teasing. Friends tease each other, you know?” he grumbled to his dragon, focusing on what was happening now despite the obvious disdain that reached his emotions—clearly coming from those two nosy dragons he called his own.
“Oh, others might accuse you of favoritism,” Bodhi countered before his tone turned serious. He looked around, scanning for anyone who might be listening.
There was no one else in the corridor—at least not within sight—but since neither of them planned to speak loudly, it didn’t matter.
“We’ve got new information about Poromiel. Brennan sent a note saying Anca was destroyed by Venin during the night. Everything’s gone, and from the direction they’re moving, they’re heading toward Zolya,” Bodhi said, crossing his arms. Liam pressed his lips together because that was truly bad news.
The griffons might not store as much magic as dragons, and their fortified areas were considerably weaker, but Liam wasn’t blind to how disastrous it would be if the Venin managed to invade and drain the place.
That could be what finally gave them the power needed to destroy the wards that protected them. Not entirely, but close enough.
It would be a disaster—and one they unfortunately couldn’t help prevent at the moment. Not with the constant inspections, not with the wards being sealed almost every other day, and certainly not with that idiot Varrish patrolling Basgiath, eager for any chance to incriminate them.
And Liam wasn’t even thinking about that secret, suspicious project Varrish was apparently part of along with Panchek—and previously Colonel Aetos—which went directly against General Sorrengail’s rules.
Why couldn’t things ever be easy for them just once?
“What’s going to be done about it? If they reach Zolya and take it, we’re in trouble,” Liam asked seriously.
“The council is voting. The fliers want more daggers, and Tecarus is furious that his deal wasn’t accepted again. He wants help now or he’s going to lock the luminar in Cordyn and stop negotiating with us,” Bodhi informed with a sigh, and Liam rolled his eyes—Tecarus was an idiot.
And the council was even worse for letting itself be manipulated by that viscount’s stupid games. Their vote would be useless—they’d never reach an agreement any side would accept.
“Xaden?” Liam asked, raising an eyebrow.
“His hands are tied. He’s not backing out of the engagement with Cat, but he can’t end it either because he’s already committed to delivering those daggers. He hasn’t thought of any alternative other than continuing to deliver what we can. As for the luminar… well, the situation remains the same,” Bodhi said, then turned his head to look at him. “He wants to hear your opinion. We all spoke to him about ours—only yours is missing.”
That explained why Liam was hearing about this now and why everything was being so open. But Liam still wasn’t convinced. If Xaden wanted his opinion, then why was Bodhi telling him about it in the middle of the hallway?
“Well, Xaden, I’ll think about whether I’ll tell you what I think,” Liam mocked in frustration, and Bodhi laughed, though he shook his head.
“He would’ve heard that from you himself, but Varrish’s been all over him since he caught him returning late to his quarters. So he sent me instead—let’s just say I’m freer from that stupid colonel’s watch,” Bodhi explained.
At least that made sense. Varrish was definitely watching Liam because of his position as a teaching assistant, and he’d be after Xaden simply because of the Riorson name.
If he caught them whispering around—especially at a suspicious hour—no trial or evidence would be necessary. Both would be branded traitors, and with them, all the marked ones.
So Liam focused on what he thought of the situation. The most obvious thing was that Tecarus was a pompous, idiotic fool for wanting to cut off the only internal help he had available.
That luminar he kept threatening them with was useless without dragons to bring it to life, no matter how much raw material the fliers could extract from the wards or elsewhere.
Using it as leverage wasn’t smart—it was petty and born from a stupid need to control everything.
If Tecarus were smarter, he’d agree to establish the luminar in Aretia, under the condition that his fliers had unrestricted access to production and its location. That would strengthen both sides and allow him to strategically place his men in case any maneuver became necessary.
But as Liam had already pointed out, Tecarus wasn’t smart. He was cunning and petty, so common sense wasn’t something anyone could expect from him.
And Xaden’s hands were truly tied. With Varrish loose in Basgiath and holding the power to punish them for even the slightest mistake, there wasn’t much they could do—and even what could be done had to be handled carefully.
Still, protecting Zolya was a priority. The Venin knew they were defenseless and that the griffons didn’t have enough power to stop them in a full-scale assault.
They obviously knew there were no dragons available to defend the place. Liam knew that at the level those magic-sucking idiots were now, having a fire-breathing threat waiting for them there could at least make them retreat for a while.
But they didn’t have enough dragons to form an adequate guard, nor could they spare the few they had to remain stationed there long enough.
Liam frowned, trying to find something that could work given what he knew—both about the Venin and Navarra’s inner workings.
The Venin favored night attacks for that kind of operation—when visibility was lower for defenders, and most were still waking from sleep, though they were formidable even in daylight.
Liam knew that if they were going to invade Zolya, it would be during the night—to catch them defenseless.
But there was nothing they could do for them. Unless…
“Sentinels,” he said abruptly, half-speaking and half-thinking aloud. Liam nodded to himself, reinforcing the idea. Bodhi looked at him with a raised eyebrow.
“Sentinels?” he asked doubtfully, and Liam realized the boy couldn’t follow his train of thought, so he nodded.
“Dragons, I mean. The Venin will think twice if there are dragons around in addition to the regular griffon patrol,” Liam explained, shaking his head.
The plan was good. They’d just need to plan carefully and stick to tight schedules, but it could work. If they could drive those monsters away, they wouldn’t need to maintain it long-term.
“They’ll probably want to make a blitz attack—claim as much ground as possible before the guards are fully armed. A dragon could convince them that won’t happen. Dragons are stronger than griffons, and fighting one would take more time, allowing the patrols to wake and arm themselves properly instead of the chaos they prefer,” he finished explaining.
“It could work, but we can’t send dragons to Poromiel without being caught. The absence of any of us would be noticed quickly,” Bodhi pointed out, raising an eyebrow. Liam nodded, though a smile was already forming on his lips.
“Not if they’re expecting some of us to be gone and out of communication,” he replied, genuinely pleased. “You know, Varrish isn’t entirely wrong to be wary of me being listed as a teaching assistant—because that gives me access to all the instructors’ files,” Liam admitted, scoffing at having to agree with that idiot.
Liam knew the limitations of his plan and the risks it posed, but it could work if they were careful enough—slipping past patrols, staying right under command’s nose, but never close enough to be noticed.
“Starting tomorrow, a group of third-years will be assigned nightly patrols in a nearly abandoned area somewhere along the border between Elsum and Braevick provinces. They’re expected to patrol all night and won’t return until midday the next day,” Liam said, almost smiling. “Xaden and Garrick are going tomorrow, Soleil and Masen on Tuesday, Coraline with Nyra on Wednesday, and I’m pretty sure Andrew’s going Friday,” he listed, waiting as Bodhi pieced it together.
He could see the moment Bodhi realized what that meant.
“That would cover almost an entire week of guard rotation. They could fly to Zolya after beginning their patrols and stay until nearly dawn before they’re even expected back near any border fortress,” Bodhi realized, and Liam nodded in satisfaction.
That was a loophole—it wasn’t something they could do often, and it would probably only work that time because, for some reason, things had aligned to allow them to have personnel free and capable of carrying it out.
Liam still kept one foot behind the line, unsure of how this would work under Tecarus’s pressure for dragon patrols in Poromiel. If Tecarus saw how well this plan could go, what would stop him from setting yet another ridiculous and impossible demand before agreeing to release the luminar?
They hadn’t lied—there truly weren’t enough dragons to stay there, and there was certainly no possibility of any of them being away from Basgiath for hours on a regular basis.
But Zolya was far too important to be left to fall. That sacrifice was something they would have to make.
They were already halfway up the stairs to the history classroom. Whoever had decided to schedule that class right after lunch clearly hadn’t been very intelligent—but things were what they were.
Not that Liam paid much attention anyway. His exceptions were only for topics related to the primordial forests more than six hundred years ago—or anything that involved dragons.
“It’s not ideal. They’ll still be alone during the day, but having dragons there for a while would probably make the Venin choose other targets first and move away from the nest,” Liam agreed. Bodhi turned to glance at him briefly before shaking his head suddenly and nodding in understanding.
“I’ll let Xaden know what you said. You know he’ll expect you to keep an eye on the schedules now that he knows you can do that,” Bodhi warned, and Liam huffed a laugh.
“As if he needed to tell me to do it. The only thing that hasn’t reached my hands yet are the schedules for—you know what,” Liam said, his stomach twisting at the thought and a bitter taste rising to his tongue.
Damn university. Liam wished he could burn that place to ashes.
Bodhi let out a noise of disdain and opened his mouth to say something, but Liam was no longer paying attention.
His stomach turned abruptly as his body was once again engulfed by that sharp, familiar sensation—an alert of nearby danger. It was the same feeling he’d had that night before running into Panchek and Varrish in the hallway, just before they went to kill Colonel Aetos.
The chant of “careful, careful, careful” grew louder in his mind until Liam felt truly dizzy from it.
The tension inside him was unbearable, like he was about to explode. He should have looked around to make sure no one else was nearby, but his eyes were locked on the classroom door already visible at the top of the stairs.
The fact that it was open only made him more tense. Something was very wrong—Liam felt as if his body were made of lead for a moment.
Then Bodhi came into his line of sight, looking confused, and that’s when Liam realized he had stopped in the middle of the stairs, just staring at the door, having missed whatever the other had just said.
Liam forced himself to shake his head, trying to drive away that murmur and clear his mind even though he still felt frozen.
“What is it?” Bodhi asked, confused. Liam still wasn’t entirely sure, but he knew what it meant.
“There’s someone in there.” He nodded toward the classroom door, narrowing his eyes. “And it’s not friendly,” Liam murmured, knowing that feeling could only mean imminent danger.
Bodhi turned to face the door, frowning in confusion. He looked like he was wondering how Liam could know that, but then he shook his head. The older man motioned for him to keep moving, and Liam reluctantly followed—what choice did he have? His class was in that damned room.
“Do either of you have something to tell me about what that was?” Liam asked Deigh and Feal, who both responded with identical, bored rumbles.
“No,” Deigh said simply before falling silent again.
Liam rolled his eyes at his dragons and refocused on what was happening.
The room looked empty when they reached the top of the stairs, the open door showing a clear view of where Professor Bins usually taught. No one was there—not even the professor.
But Liam still wasn’t convinced as Bodhi led the way inside. When the Durran suddenly went tense in front of him, Liam knew for sure that whatever had triggered that sense of danger was real.
He ignored how the older man tried to block his way, slipping past the left side of Bodhi’s body and the doorframe.
Liam narrowed his eyes as he stepped into the room, seeing a man with light skin and a neatly trimmed beard a shade darker than his hair. He was as tall as Bodhi, though less muscular, with straight hair the color of dark wood and eyes to match.
He was staring directly at Bodhi, who stood rigid, the professor’s patch visible on the left side of his chest—but Liam had never seen this man in any class before.
There were three other riders in the room, spread out and surrounding the area. All of them wore the same sadistic smile—and all of them were holding different objects.
The one closest to them had a thick rope. Another held a club. The fourth carried an empty sack that might once have held grain.
Liam didn’t need anything else to understand what was happening or who that damned professor was.
That was Grady, the instructor in charge of the RSC—and those men were his assistants. What they were doing there was obvious. Liam’s jaw clenched, a muscle twitching as he realized they were there to take Bodhi.
Rage twisted in his gut like a knot, his insides churning harder. He felt hot—boiling—with fury, the sensation spreading from his core until it consumed every part of him, turning him into a beacon of searing heat right there in the middle of the room.
The pressure filled his entire body, like a rope stretched to the breaking point—and Liam couldn’t help but show it.
From the way Bodhi looked at him, all that anger was clear in his expression. The older man just shook his head, gripping Liam’s wrist tightly in warning.
“Don’t do anything. It’s fine,” Bodhi assured, but Liam shook his head so hard his neck popped.
It wasn’t fine. Those bastards had no right to torture people like that. Liam should end them.
He’d let them go once when he found out—but how did they expect him to stand by and watch someone be dragged off to that stupid course?
Only over his dead body.
But Grady didn’t seem at all concerned about Liam being there as he gave Bodhi a half-smile filled with irony.
“Executive Officer Durran, you’ve been summoned to present yourself for your course,” he declared, already stepping closer, his hand reaching toward Bodhi, who tensed but didn’t resist.
Liam’s jaw trembled harder with frustration as he watched the professor draw near, his hand already stretching to grab Bodhi’s arm.
The magic within Liam—born from his dragon bonds—was pulsing violently through his body, twisting and writhing in his mind, battering against the walls of his mental space before surging outward with force.
He felt like a ticking bomb, his magic boiling inside him—like a pot filled past its limit, seconds from exploding.
Grady was two steps from Bodhi when he raised his arm, calm just moments ago. If Liam hadn’t been so focused on that outstretched hand, he might have noticed how bits of loosened stone on the floor had begun to tremble and shake.
Or how suddenly chairs were scraping against the ground, drawing the attention of Grady’s assistants.
The only thing he saw was the moment the professor grabbed Bodhi, fingers closing tightly around his arm. Liam shuddered, power crackling inside him—seconds from bursting.
“Let him go,” Liam hissed, stepping forward, his gaze anything but friendly. Grady turned toward him, surprised.
He clearly hadn’t expected a first-year to interfere—but then the professor’s lips curled into a sarcastic smile.
“And if I don’t let him go, what will you do?” the man taunted. Bodhi turned to him with pleading eyes, silently begging Liam to stay out of it.
But the anger twisted tighter, linking with his magic—and suddenly, Liam was seeing red.
“Let. Him. Go,” he repeated, his voice punctuated by the scraping of more chairs against the floor. The professor finally seemed to notice what was happening, his eyes narrowing in confusion before flicking back to Liam in recognition. He never had the chance to speak—
“Let him go.”
Liam’s voice was the final push before the dam of wild magic inside him burst. In the next instant, everything not bolted to the floor shot upward toward the ceiling with enough force to shatter wood.
The sound of breaking and crashing echoed through the room—probably into the hallway as well. Grady’s two henchmen groaned in agony, contorted against the ceiling. The classroom chairs were destroyed, the professor’s desk cracked in half—all of it held suspended above them.
Everything except what was anchored to the floor—and Grady, who still clutched Bodhi’s arm, pale now, staring at Liam as if a second head had just sprouted beside his first.
Bodhi’s eyes were wide, but Liam didn’t have time to think about that. His focus snapped back to Grady, who—against all reason—still hadn’t released the second-year’s arm.
“I said, let go,” Liam growled, and more chairs splintered as his magic surged even stronger.
Groans of pain filled the room as the riders were pressed harder against the ceiling, the entire structure creaking around them.
The rage coursed through Liam’s limbs like molten liquid, setting his body ablaze from the inside out. His entire focus was on that bastard who dared lay a hand on Bodhi.
How dare he torture people here? How dare he touch Liam’s family and pretend otherwise?
The magic pulsed harder inside him, and he didn’t even need to say anything—it was clear to everyone.
It showed in the way the entire left wall suddenly cracked, jagged fissures spreading from the bottom corner to the ceiling.
Chunks of stone broke free, never reaching the ground before being pulled upward with the rest of the furniture. Another heartbeat of stunned silence—and then another wave of rage hit Liam’s power.
A deep rumble sounded—a thunderous crack of something breaking. Grady stammered something as he glanced toward the window.
It was the north tower—over six hundred meters away—and now it was in ruins. The entire top was gone or still collapsing, more pieces breaking free and flying upward.
It was as if everything was being pulled toward the sky instead of falling to the earth.
“Grady, let the boy go! Stop being an idiot—he’s going to bring down the damned university!” one of the riders shouted, his voice full of pain and panic. The professor hesitated, but Liam stepped forward again, another surge of his magic extending the crack nearly halfway through the classroom.
The structure groaned louder, the sound of splitting stone echoing beyond the walls as more screams of horror reached Liam’s ears.
Grady finally gave in, releasing Bodhi and stepping back with his hands raised, indicating he wouldn’t dare try again. Bodhi stood frozen, staring at him in shock.
Liam knew he should stop now—he knew, in theory, how to reel the magic back under control—but the opportunity was too tempting. No one knew he could manage his power. He couldn’t be punished for this. And Grady was right there.
Liam didn’t stop. The moment the professor backed away far enough, he was dragged upward like everything else, slamming into the ceiling with a scream of pain.
Bodhi flinched, finally snapping out of his trance as he stared in horrified concern at the devastation spreading through the room. He stepped closer, trying to sound calm.
“Liam, it’s all right,” Bodhi said softly. The boy clearly had more pity for that disgusting man than Liam could ever feel—too bad Liam didn’t agree that everything was “all right.”
That bastard had dared to lay hands on Bodhi—in front of him. That hardly counted as fine. So Liam didn’t back down, and nothing fell.
Bodhi’s eyes unfocused briefly, then he looked somewhere between confused and surprised—but his expression softened slightly.
“He didn’t hurt me, Liam. I need you to calm down,” Bodhi said gently. The rage pulsed audibly in Liam’s ears, coiling around his chest like a constricting snake—but he still tried to take a deep breath, at least pretending to comply.
It didn’t really matter that the anger felt like something he’d never be able to overcome.
Some of Liam’s muscles relaxed with the exhale, and though everything still hovered against the ceiling, Bodhi nodded, seemingly satisfied.
“Good. Now you need to deactivate the signet,” Bodhi said slowly. Liam glared at him, displeased, before taking another breath and reluctantly closing off the channel through which the magic was flowing into him.
It was Deigh’s magic, he realized—too late.
The next second, everything that had been suspended against the ceiling crashed to the ground with a loud bang and a deafening roar. Debris fell to the floor and over Professor Grady and his assistants.
Outside, the pieces that had broken off from the tower plummeted again and struck the main structure with force, causing another part of it to collapse like a house of cards.
Screams finally registered in Liam’s mind, and he supposed they were from the cadets who had probably been pulled against the ceiling as collateral damage. But he couldn’t have affected such a wide area, could he? The tower was closer to them than to the other side of the fortress, after all.
“The pull of your signet was felt all the way in the Valley Brave Heart, though it wasn’t strong enough to lift anything,” Deigh shattered his hopes. Part of him was shocked at how far the reach of his power had spread, and the other part was afraid of what that meant.
If Varrish had already been breathing down his neck before this, now Liam would probably have a hard time getting rid of him. His signet might make him stronger, but it also meant he had become a threat.
It took a moment before Grady recovered enough from the impact and freed himself from the rubble that had fallen on him, standing up though still visibly shaken. His eyes never left Liam, as if the young man were a bomb about to explode at any second.
Considering the anger that had climbed up Liam’s throat, the professor wasn’t entirely wrong to be cautious. Liam wondered how disastrous the situation could have been if he hadn’t had the control he’d gained from his previous life.
Fortunately, no one had to find out, because despite his emotions, nothing else moved out of place.
“Professor Grady, he didn’t mean to cause all this,” Bodhi stepped between them, and Liam frowned, deeply unhappy that the older boy was putting himself in the line of fire, especially when the professor’s jaw trembled with irritation.
“He almost split this fortress in half for getting involved in something beyond his rank,” Grady said, standing to his full height. Liam hissed irritably—like anyone could control when their signet would manifest.
If Liam could do that, he would’ve been using that power a long time ago.
“It was a signet manifestation. He can’t control how or when it happens,” Bodhi pointed out unnecessarily—the man should know that. “You know how unpredictable these things can be. And he’s not going to hurt anyone else, is he?” Bodhi shot Liam a pointed look over his shoulder, doing his best to calm things down—as if that were possible after Liam had almost torn the fortress in half.
Liam nodded, keeping his expression as open as he could under Bodhi’s watchful eyes. He intended to back Bodhi’s efforts in any way he could.
“Of course,” he agreed, his voice coming out much lighter than it had been less than ten minutes ago when he was threatening Grady.
Bodhi turned back to face the professor, and Liam let his expression return to its former silent fury—no matter what Bodhi thought of it.
If Grady laid a single finger on Bodhi again, Liam would gut him until he regretted ever breathing the same air as the second-year. And when he got tired, he’d take him to Deigh to be burned.
And from the look on the professor’s face, those intentions were perfectly visible in Liam’s expression. Grady swallowed hard before straightening up again, trying to look more imposing.
Liam didn’t pay attention to what Bodhi was saying in his dedicated speech; instead, all he could focus on were the bursts of laughter coming from his two dragons through their bonds.
“I’m not sure the instructor will dare touch the Cuir rider again—you certainly put on a bigger show than necessary, Firestorm,” Feal said, amused. Despite the words, she sounded deeply proud, and Liam pressed his lips together.
“As if I’d let someone in my family be taken for torture right in front of me,” Liam hissed furiously, only to earn more amusement from his dragons.
“Your reaction wouldn’t have been that violent. You just didn’t like that he touched your desired partner,” Deigh laughed, and Liam shook his head, half lost and half frustrated.
“My what?” he grumbled to Deigh, who muttered something that sounded like “stupid humans.”
“If you wish to mate with him, then you should start acting accordingly, Firestorm,” Feal said as if it were simple. It took all of Liam’s self-control not to let his jaw drop in shock at their words.
“I don’t… never use that word again. Humans don’t talk like that,” Liam stammered in his mind, wincing as he repeated the word mentally. “And I don’t want to… Bodhi is just my friend, my family. I would’ve done that for anyone.” He defended stubbornly, clenching his jaw.
“I don’t recall the fortress almost splitting apart when the silver-haired one was attacked, though you certainly had the means to make it happen,” Deigh teased, amused, and Liam huffed.
“Violet could defend herself, and I didn’t see her being attacked,” he insisted, only for both dragons to growl at him, leaving him blinking in confusion.
“You insult the ability of the male you wish to mate with? That’s humiliating and disapproved of,” Deigh growled, and Liam’s eye twitched as he exhaled sharply.
“I don’t want to mate with him, and Bodhi can defend himself—it wouldn’t have mattered. They would’ve taken him anyway. Different situations,” Liam snapped back, frustrated by how hard it was for dragons to understand.
For one glorious second, it looked like Liam was going to win the argument—until he wasn’t.
“Humans are strange,” Feal concluded, sounding confused. “When there’s mating interest between two dragons, the union happens without hesitation. Why don’t you proceed with your bonding ceremony?” she asked, and Liam sighed tiredly.
Bodhi was still arguing with Grady and Professor Carr—Liam had no idea about what.
“First: I don’t want to mate with him. Second: Bodhi doesn’t want to mate with me. Third: I have clearer and more important goals that don’t require or even include a relationship. And fourth: why do you even care?” Liam rolled his eyes at his nosy dragons. Didn’t they have better things to do than meddle in his nonexistent love life?
“Say that again next time you think about how attractive the Cuir rider looks in his uniform,” Feal started.
“Or when you forgive him faster than anyone else,” Deigh continued.
“Or when you consider gutting teachers for touching him,” Feal finished, both of them laughing in his mind as Liam sighed in frustration.
“And as for the curly-haired one’s desires—perhaps your perception of his mating instincts is a bit flawed. He smelled of lust at the start of the flight to Cordyn,” Deigh said matter-of-factly.
“And forming a bond with a potential partner wouldn’t hinder your duties. In fact, it could relieve some of the pressure you carry alone,” Feal added.
“We want you focused on your mission. That means tending to your needs. So stop making excuses and claim your partner,” Deigh growled. Liam wanted to give a good answer but figured reminding them he didn’t want to date Bodhi was better than his last attempts. He sighed mockingly.
“I have no such desires, thank you very much for your opinion. Now, why exactly did you decide to share it?” Liam mocked.
“Perhaps because you needed to hear it. Either way, the curly-haired one is an acceptable partner—you have our approval,” Feal said seriously, and Liam rolled his eyes.
“Well, that’s all I needed. Now that I have your approval, I can move forward,” Liam muttered sarcastically. Naturally, being dragons, neither Deigh nor Feal understood the tone.
“As you should,” Deigh grumbled, and Liam rolled his eyes again. Dragons weren’t that smart.
“Why don’t you take care of your own love lives instead of patrolling mine?” he asked irritably.
“There is no love life to comment on. Females are too complicated to be worth it,” Deigh said flatly, and Liam raised an eyebrow.
“Then maybe you should mate with a male—I’ve heard they’re quite attractive,” Liam shot back, enjoying the chance to turn the tables. Deigh growled in frustration, but Feal laughed, perhaps simply wanting to be the agent of chaos that day, no matter the target.
“Dragons don’t form same-sex bonds. Our species revolves around the future and the progress of our society, so unions exist for the purpose of offspring,” Deigh said, and Liam almost smiled before realizing it might look strange.
“Of course that’s why. Maybe I’m not the one in denial here,” he teased.
“My union interests are not for your opinion,” Deigh growled at last, and Liam shrugged.
“Then stop meddling in my nonexistent romantic life, both of you,” Liam concluded, raising his mental shields—but not in time to block the wave of laughter from his dragons.
He focused again on the present, trying to see how the argument between the professor and Bodhi was going—and who was winning.
“No, sir,” Bodhi replied to some question from the professor, who looked deeply irritated.
“Carr should arrive any moment. You’ll wait here until he comes, and then you’ll proceed to your cadet assignment. Don’t think you’re free of your responsibilities,” the professor said, though he did back off slightly.
Liam’s jaw tightened in frustration. Was it too late to change his mind and pretend he’d lost control of his signet?
But Bodhi must have sensed that thought, because he shot Liam a reproachful look and nodded.
“Yes, sir,” he agreed softly. Liam huffed, throwing a venomous look at the professor before crossing his arms and resigning himself to let it go.
After all, he didn’t really want to make things worse for either of them now. If he couldn’t stop it, he wouldn’t make it worse.
He stayed tense, feeling his new signet bubbling beneath the surface the entire time it took for Grady and his lackeys to leave the room before letting out a loud huff.
“Son of a bitch,” he cursed once they were far enough not to hear, and Bodhi sighed, rubbing his face. He seemed to take a moment to gather his thoughts before looking back at Liam.
“You’re not making anything easier for yourself, are you?” he said, frustrated. Liam shrugged—he wasn’t trying to. “Grady will remember this, and don’t forget you’re stuck with him next year. So maybe don’t start pissing him off now, Liam,” Bodhi hissed.
Well, that was an unfortunate truth. It was easy to forget that he’d have to deal with that next year, splitting his time between his mission, caring for his sister, and surviving that hellish course.
But Liam had more pressing problems right now. He’d fix the first one before worrying about the next.
“Maybe he won’t live long enough to teach next year,” Liam muttered dismissively. He could always make room in his schedule to end a repulsive man’s existence. Maybe then he could finally put his poison knowledge to good use—it was rotting in his mind anyway. Bodhi clearly knew what he was thinking, because he gave him a reproachful look.
“You’re supposed to be the rational one between the two brothers. Why is your first option always murder?” Bodhi grumbled, and Liam shrugged.
“I am the rational one. That’s why I’m suggesting eliminating him as soon as possible. It would be irrational to let such a threat continue,” he insisted, raising an eyebrow.
“You’re not killing Grady,” Bodhi reaffirmed, and Liam huffed, rolling his eyes.
“Whatever,” he surrendered. He could plan something quietly later—Bodhi would never know.
“Now, let’s focus on the real problem,” Bodhi said, rubbing his forehead, and Liam snorted.
“What problem? As far as I know, Carr’s coming, I’ll start training with him, and that’s it,” Liam crossed his arms, and Bodhi shook his head.
“That’s how it works for most cases, but you just nearly split the damn fortress in half out of anger, Liam. That means—” Bodhi was cut off by a firm, authoritative female voice that Liam would recognize even half-deaf.
Lilith Sorrengail. Fuck.
He hadn’t heard her approach—but then again, he’d been too focused on mentally debating how to gut Grady without incriminating himself.
The woman looked as composed as ever, though the tension in her jaw betrayed her frustration.
“It means your signet is tied to your emotions and therefore more volatile and dangerous than the others,” she finished seriously. Beside her stood Carr and Kaori, who looked frustrated, though he gave a small nod that resembled congratulations.
At least someone seemed pleased with his signet, in the end. Liam hadn’t had the chance to decide what he thought of it yet—aside from enjoying how it let him slam Grady’s ugly face against the ceiling.
“That means a different kind of training will be employed for you,” she continued, her cold eyes locking onto Liam’s until he grew uncomfortable—which, aesthetically speaking, happened rather quickly.
“What kind of training?” Liam frowned. He’d never seen this happen before. In his first year, everyone had followed the standard training— even Violet, whose signet was also heavily tied to emotion.
Bodhi looked uneasy, shifting from one foot to the other. Kaori looked defeated, shaking his head, while Carr and the General remained composed like solid stone.
“The standard training for that kind of signet is cadet isolation, Mairi,” Carr informed.
Liam’s world simply crumbled beneath his feet. He might’ve believed it if someone told him the ground had vanished, given the wave of vertigo that hit him—curling in his stomach like an anchor and slowly twisting into something that felt far too much like panic for his liking.
Isolation? They wanted to force him to stay somewhere—God knows where—far away from everyone he knew?
No, no, he couldn’t do that.
His squad—he needed to be near them. For the unbonded, for training, because Dylan and Violet still needed it. Liam needed to keep them within sight to make sure they’d be okay.
And his assignment as assistant instructor? How could Liam do his job while being kept away? How could he keep an eye on Varrish and instruct Aetos?
Liam couldn’t… no, absolutely not.
The air seemed momentarily thinner around him, while the petrified face of the General became the only thing he could make out amidst the horror spreading inside him.
He knew his control was slipping, knew that the anger he had so carefully restrained before was resurfacing, making his signet react—he knew it only proved their point.
But Liam… did they really expect him to just accept this and follow Carr to whatever pit of hell he thought would keep them safe from his signet?
Panic gave way to anger again, that ugly kind that came with those thorny vines of pain feeding the emotion—one caused by wounds much older than the one right in front of him.
“You think isolating me will keep anyone safe, General?” he mocked, his voice dripping with hateful disdain. Her jaw tightened, but her posture remained perfect. Debris began to rise at the edges of Liam’s vision, and curses echoed across the room.
“You will remain away until Carr determines you can keep your signet under control despite your emotions. Until then, you are dismissed from your classes and from your post assisting Kaori. That is all,” she said, turning to leave. Liam hissed as large chunks of debris slammed into the wall, cracking the plaster and exposing the solid stone beneath.
“Fucking bitch, I’m going to kill her,” Liam hissed under his breath—not that he actually would.
“You won’t. You can’t get away with something like that yet. Now get a hold of yourself,” Deigh snarled, clearly frustrated.
Carr seemed deeply unwilling to approach, considering how the debris was still hovering near Liam. Bodhi stood off to the side, looking defeated. He tried to motion for Liam to calm down, but Liam couldn’t.
Not when the horror was still twisting in his gut, making the air feel thinner.
In the end, it was Kaori who spoke up.
“I should state that your position is not at risk. Once you’re cleared, you’ll be free to join me again in class,” he said, stepping back, clearly realizing his presence was no longer needed.
As soon as the professor left, Liam snapped—the fury overtaking the shock—and then he was storming down the corridors, ignoring Carr’s shouts or anything else in his path.
Confused cadets, shattered furniture—all ignored as long as they weren’t in his way, and whatever didn’t move fast enough was simply blown aside.
He heard footsteps behind him, someone calling his name, but he couldn’t stop. Liam knew, somewhere deep down, that running wouldn’t change anything—but he wasn’t exactly thinking clearly.
He passed through the main hall, then up the stairs toward the flight field. Only then did he realize all he was trying to do was escape the situation on the ground.
Liam wanted to fly—but for that, he needed his dragons. They would never let him run from this, and it would never work anyway.
That was why he finally stopped at the edge, gasping so hard it felt like he might cough up his lungs.
This couldn’t be happening. No, definitely not.
Except it was. He almost jumped when he heard a step behind him.
It was Bodhi approaching, hands raised in a clear sign he meant no harm.
“Liam, Liam, it’s okay—it’s just me,” he said softly, trying to calm him down, but Liam still stepped back as Bodhi moved forward, his nerves making him hyperaware of the distance between them. “I need you to calm down. Everything’s going to be okay, I promise.”
“Be okay?” Liam laughed, the sound bordering on hysterical. “Nothing’s going to be okay, damn it! They want to lock me up somewhere for who knows how long—how the hell is that supposed to be okay?” He threw his hands up, trying to express just how absurd that idea was. Bodhi just nodded.
“I know you don’t like it—I wouldn’t either if I were you—but it’s what’s best for you right now. Xaden went through it, Garrick went through it, and they’re fine. But I need you to calm down,” Bodhi insisted, and Liam let out a near-maniacal laugh.
“I can’t… I can’t be locked up there, Bodhi. I can’t. I…” Liam paused, realizing that saying that part of the truth would be a bad idea. “I need to be there with the squad. Dylan still needs to improve his fighting, there are still unbonded around, and Varrish… I need to be close to them. I need to know they’re safe.” Liam gestured wildly, and Bodhi blinked, as if having a sudden realization.
He shook his head like he’d mentally slapped himself, then nodded in understanding, taking a conciliatory step forward.
“We’ll take care of them, Liam, I promise. We’ll keep an eye on them, and I’m sure Imogen will agree to handle their training until you’re back,” Bodhi said, trying to calm him. He took a few more steps closer, encouraged by the fact that Liam didn’t move away. “Trust us, okay? Nothing will happen to your squad.”
Liam stared at him, searching for any trace of a lie on his face. There was none—but the knot in his stomach didn’t ease.
“Promise me—swear to me—you won’t let anything happen to them. And that you’ll tell me if anything, anything at all, happens,” Liam said. Bodhi stared for a moment, then nodded.
“I swear,” he said. Liam shuddered before nodding, even though the panic didn’t fully recede. “Great. Let’s go,” Bodhi said, motioning toward the way out of the flight field.
Liam felt like he should have told him the last detail—the real reason he didn’t want to stay there.
-*-
It turned out that the place of his isolation was nothing more than an old cabin nestled a few meters past the edge of the forest below the cliffside of the valley. It was a standard hunting cabin model—rectangular, with a small porch, a few scattered windows, a triangular roof, and rooms that were mostly open to one another.
It was depressing, and Liam didn’t feel any better about being confined there once he saw it.
Carr was waiting by the door, looking annoyed. Bodhi had said goodbye somewhere along the way since he had to meet Grady. At least he’d given Liam directions, but the walk hadn’t made him any less irritated with everything.
The professor eyed him critically before sighing.
“Alright, here’s how this will work, Cadet Mairi. Every day before lunch, I’ll come here and test you to see if you can control yourself under strong emotions. The day you can, you’ll be free to leave,” Carr explained slowly.
Well, that was really impressive—Carr wasn’t any better a teacher than Liam remembered him being.
“I want you to practice, though. Start small—lift stones, hold them up as long as you can,” he listed. Well, Liam wouldn’t have thought of that if it weren’t for him.
“May I receive visitors, sir?” he asked mockingly, and the professor glared at him.
“I think we can all agree it’s best you not be exposed to strong emotions. So, for this initial phase, we’ll maintain total isolation,” Carr said. Liam had to summon every ounce of strength in his body not to lose control right there.
Blessed be his vision signet for not reacting to his emotions—Liam was confident this wouldn’t be as easy as he’d initially thought.
He barely noticed the professor leaving as he stared at the place that would be his prison for a while.
“I’m going to stay here,” Liam said hollowly to himself. “Alone.” His body shuddered.
For a second, the feeling took over—the silent emptiness of the forest making him feel almost claustrophobic. His back itched with the sensation, his mind empty, and the echo of nothingness making him dizzy.
Liam was alone. He hated being completely alone.
“You’re not—you have us,” Feal interrupted.
It was true.
But was it enough?